


Sons of Arrows and Ice

by himjongs



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vikings, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-07
Updated: 2015-06-07
Packaged: 2018-04-01 17:49:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4029088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/himjongs/pseuds/himjongs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the King of the North dies, his only son Luhan is left to rule. The Viking Prince of the south is sent to usurp him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sons of Arrows and Ice

**Author's Note:**

> prompt #116 for selubration round 3 
> 
> (A few hundred years ago two kingdoms existed beneath each other in harmony. While the southern one was well off and covered in beautiful landscapes, the northern one was known for it's strength and strong will, existing in a cold mountain area since ancient times. Due to an agreement they never fought each other and stood up against foreign enemies together. However, when the northern king died and left his only son (Luhan, who becomes the new king ) behind, the southern king developed a plan to unite both kingdoms under his son, Sehun. So Sehun is sent to to take over the northern kingdom, but he didn't expect the beautiful king to lull him so easily and he soon finds himself confused to decide what's wrong or right.)
> 
> -highly influenced by the history channel series  
> -sort of traditional european monarchy merged with viking life  
> -a bit of my own made up norse mythology  
> -also I made a map that I might link later

**Kaldr Mountains, Norðsvell AD 796**

Luhan exhaled carefully before pulling back his bow. Flurries of snow drifted down around him, melting into his blonde hair. Piling onto a layer of snow that had already stuck to the mountainside. With the hope that his friends hiding nearby would not make a sound, he deftly stepped out from behind a tree and let his arrow loose.

It silently cut through the air and Luhan held his breath, watching it fly. When his arrow pierced straight through both lungs of his prey he exhaled slowly, releasing a small cloud of warm breath in front of him.

“Nice shot,” Chanyeol whispered. Stepping out from a tree to Luhan’s left, he approached the reindeer.

“Patience,” Joonmyeon joined him, only to extend an arm and hold him back.

Chanyeol looked over at him briefly. He was nearly a foot and a half taller than Joonmyeon, and he wore a deep brown bearskin fur that matched his shoulder length locks and made his chest appear broader. “Let’s not let it suffer,” he said moving again.

He took a small knife from his belt and rounded the animal. Quickly, he shoved it between its ears and said a short prayer. Chanyeol placed his hands on the reindeer’s head as the blood poured red out onto the snow. “Many thanks to the gods for this gracious gift. This Winter will be long and hard.” He took a bit of blood on his index and middle fingers and wiped it clean down his lips, before getting out his rope.

Luhan and Joonmyeon helped him tie the reindeer's legs together and drag the kill home.

 

**Mjör, Norðsvell**

“Luhan. Luhan get up.” Joonmyeon shook the prince awake.

“What is it, Joonmyeon?” Luhan sat up from his bed. The warm furs slid down his body and cold immediately set in his bare skin.

“Your mother-”

The bedding was thrown aside and Luhan was pulling on his shirt before Joonmyeon could finish. The darkness had the room swallowed whole so he skipped out on his boots for the sake of time. The wide valley of Mjör was weeks away from its first snow of the year, however the cold was not yet unbearable for his feet.

“Where is she?” He urged Joonmyeon to speak quickly.

The man hesitated with a weary look that went unseen. “In the Mead Hall.”

Luhan ran past him and onto the road, passing wooden houses and shops with sloping turf roofs. Very few had a lit torch outside. The smell of smoke lingered in the air. And aside from the occasional holler from a drunkard, too far gone to find his way home, the night was silent.

The Mead Hall was uncharacteristically dark and quiet. Luhan approached carefully, regretting the fact that his feet were bare. Pushing the heavy doors open, he called out, “Mother, what is it?”

The woman got to her feet from the far end of the hall and turned to him. “Oh, Luhan,” she whimpered with watery eyes. Her long, ash brown hair was unpinned and she pulled her robe tightly over her night dress. Reaching out to her only son, she exhaled weakly.

Luhan moved closer, taking in what he had not noticed before. His father lying on his back atop a table behind her. “Father,” Luhan voiced, fearing the worst.

“Dead, Luhan,” she cried. “Your father is dead.” If it were not for the man lying cold and stiff before his own eyes, Luhan would not believe it. He could not move nor speak. The woman wiped her face and turned back to her dead husband. She dropped Luhan’s hand and moved closer to the body. With another sigh she lifted her head and muttered, “You are king now.”

 

**Lysa**

Morning light shimmered on Karlsfell Bay where proud Lysan ships had recently been docked. They were still warm from a raid led by Sehun, Prince of Lysa. At 19 he was the eldest of the king’s seven sons. Heads of dragons and serpents were intricately carved on the curved prows, facing inland as the sun warmed the soil farmers had already begun harvesting.

Further inland, in the town of Geirland, King Yifan held a special meeting at the Thingstead. Only a few trusted men were invited in the early hours to hear of a great plan.

“As you all know,” Yifan began. “Our neighbors to the north have suffered a great loss recently. King Yun is dead, may the gods keep his soul.” Yifan paused to lower his head for a moment. Although the south was known for it’s warmth and beauty, Yifan wore a thick decorated tunic and fine trousers. His seat was covered in thick, purple royal garb claimed in recent raids. His wife sat arrogantly beside him just as elegant, covered in jewels, her hair full of beautiful criss-crossed braids. Sehun stood off to this side, just as tall as his father, briefly looking over the men in the room as they waited for his father to speak again.

“It is a known truth that Norðsvell and Lysa have existed in harmony for hundreds of years. However it is my desire to expand,” Yifan lingered on the last word with a small smirk on his lips. “The summer raids have come to an end- a successful end,” he glanced over at Sehun. “We have enough food and drink to get us through the cold months. I feel we should extend our hand to our brothers. Strengthen our bond. The North and the South should unite under one. It is in the best interest of our people.” He smiled and folded his hands under his chin.

“By under one, you mean you.” A man says. “Am I right, King Yifan?”

“Of course. The new King is merely a boy.” Yifan shrugged.

“Are you certain this will not cause a war?” Another asked. “Surely the North will not submit to us willingly.”

“Of course not. He is young, but he is his father’s son after all-”

“A drunkard then.” Someone said and everyone laughed.

Yifan held out a large hand and waited for the room to silence again. “We are taking the North by force. I am not asking for an agreement.”

The King’s brother, Minseok stepped forward. “I agree with you. They will have no choice but to surrender. The gods surely favor us. We have crops, boats, spoils from the raids. Our men are experienced in battle with foreigners.” He stopped to look around. To his pleasure some men were nodding their heads. “We have our own blacksmiths who will soon be able to make weapons that rival theirs. All the Northmen offer is meat and ice.” The look on Minseok’s face was more malicious than usual. It was no secret that he was more than willing to take Norðsvell.

Yifan nodded thinly. “Then you will fight for me, brother?”

“I will. I am ready to lead-”

“My son, Sehun Spearhead has just returned from his third raid.” Yifan’s voice resounded over his brother’s. “He is more than capable.”

At this, Sehun, stepped forward. His boots thudded heavily throughout the room, which seemed to fall even more silent, as he did garner an air of respect. “Father, I will fight,” he said calmly. “I will conquer Norðsvell for you. The snow of Mjör will melt with the blood of King Luhan.”

“Your father is pleased.” Yifan smiled and adjourned the meeting. Chatter instantly filled the Thingstead as the men talked amongst themselves about Yifan’s order. A servant girl brought him a horn of ale from which he drank happily.

Minseok on the other hand stood tensely with his nostrils flared, staring hard at the king. Yifan raised his horn to him and shouted over the noise. “You will leave on the full moon.”

As the rest of the men went on about battle and filled themselves with ale, conversation became lighter. They made jokes of King Yun and how he must have died on his fat ass, never to see the gates of Valhalla. Sehun slipped away to the forest.

 

The grass on the outskirts of the forest was soft green and knee high. Sehun leisurely stepped through it knowing exactly where to find his best friend. Not even twenty feet away he could already hear the high pitched moans of a local farm girl. He shook his head and took a seat on a large stone. He ran a hand through his dark hair, which he wore an inch long in the front and shaved from the top of his ear down to his neck. The hairs beginning to grow from his lower scalp pricked his fingers. He would need a haircut before he set out again.

Dusting his hands on his pants, he bent down to pick a few mushrooms that were sprouting near the rock. He pocketed a few and ate the rest while enjoying the serene field. Fresh air carried the sweet scent of flowers and if he listened close enough he could hear the river gurgling over the birds chirping.

The woman let out a particularly loud scream that had Sehun looking over his shoulder. A few beats of silence passed and he decided it was safe to approach. He neared the trees, hearing whispers and another moan. Pushing aside a branch, Sehun was met with the sight of Jongin re-entering a young, pretty girl.

“Might want to hold off on round two,” Sehun said. The girl shrieked and Jongin looked over his shoulder grinning. Sehun watched while his friend helped her dress, wanting her to feel the shame that was evident on her face. Jongin slapped her ass as she ran off.

“I’m taking Norðsvell,” Sehun said as soon as she was out of earshot.

Jongin slumped back on his bottom, catching his breath. He squinted up at Sehun. “What?”

“You heard me. Pull your pants up. I am to slay the new king of the north under my father’s orders and unite our countries as one. And I want you there beside me.”

Jongin chuckled. He clapped his hands and chuckled disbelievingly until falling over with laughter. “Yes,” he shouted and got up. Quickly he pulled his pants back to their rightful place on his hips and hugged Sehun. “Yes, my friend,” he said squeezing Sehun tight before he released him and looked him in the face. “Never, have I ever wanted anything more than this.”

“That’s what I thought you’d say.” Sehun smiled and patted Jongin on the back.

 

“So what is your plan, Nephew?” Minseok crouched down next to Sehun in the sand and slapped a hand on his shoulder.

Sehun shrugged his hand off and looked out at the boats gently rocking on the bay. He wished to be at sea again, exploring new lands, but first he must carry out his father’s order. Focusing on his plan, he pointed at the map he had drawn in the sand. “It is smart to approach Mjör from the west. They will not see us coming at first, but the terrain is difficult. Approaching from the east would be easy. We travel through Mork where we can stop for food and shelter. Over the Rogaland Mountains, it is warmer, but we lose the element of surprise.”

“Then we go west,” Minseok replied like it was the most obvious answer in the world.

“If we go west, it will be straight into battle,” Sehun began. “East means conversation and less lives lost if this King is as young and naive as you all make him out to be. Possibly only royal blood spilt.”

Minseok bristled at the last statement. “Our fates have already been determined by the gods. We battle, we die honorably and feast with Odin in Valhalla.”

“I understand you desire to feast sooner than others, uncle.” Sehun looked over at Minseok whose dark eyebrows were almost touching. His tanned face was beginning to look red as he fixed his mouth to speak, but Sehun cut him off. “I strategize to keep as many men at my back as possible, so that we may live another day to battle again. We will take a small army, only two dozen men. You are welcome to be one of those two dozen, uncle.” Sehun slapped the man’s shoulder and stood up.

 

Sehun rubbed the mane of his chocolate brown steed and looked over the warriors gearing up for the journey north. Many villagers gathered to help pack and see their family members off. He studied Jongin who was a fierce warrior, a berserker. He fought with no fear in his heart, for this reason Sehun feared for him. He was both dangerous and a foolish man. And Sehun did not want to imagine a life without him.

Jongin rushed over to his sister, who was dividing spears among the men. “Seulgi,” he greeted her warmly with a kiss on the cheek.

“Brother,” she grinned.

“We will have our revenge,” Jongin said. “We will get our sister back.” He held her forearms firmly to show his conviction.

“Only the gods know-”

“She is alive,” he interrupted. “I know it in my heart. Nothing will stand in the way of me bringing her home safely.”

Seulgi stepped away and adjusted the axe on her waist before picking up a shield. “You mean nothing will stop us.” She smiled smugly before disappearing into the crowd of people saying their goodbyes.

 

Before Sehun could meet Jongin, his parents stopped him to bid their farewell. “May the gods be with you, Sehun Spearhead,” his mother spoke first.

“Of course they will,” his father said confidently. “I will await your return, son.”

Sehun nodded while his mother stepped closer and held out her arms. “I know you are special to the gods, my son. Still I will continue to make the sacrifices.” She hugged him tightly.

“Thank you, mother.” Sehun looked down at her. They shared the same deep eyes, framed by thick, dark eyebrows. His father nodded and announced it was time for their son to depart.

 

Navigating through their homelands was simple compared to foreign lands. While many clans often fought amongst each other throughout the land, Sehun was welcomed be it warm or not. He was a prince after all. Days of traveling by horseback and foot brought them to the Forest of Mork, their final rest stop before entering the mountains. The forest was famous for its gigantic trees, which were large enough to hollow out and make homes out of. The main path of entry was a wide dirt trail that lead straight through a dark tunneled tree. It was also known that the people of Mork were closely related and believed the forest fostered all sorts of magic. Fairy Tales in Sehun’s opinion, though he was smart to never say it out loud.

The Earl of Mork was just three years older than Sehun. Although he was not a very large man he was greatly ambitious and gifted in battle, earning himself the name Jongdae The Fearless.

Night had fallen long before their arrival and they had reached a point where the moon could no longer breach the tree tops. Jongin and Seulgi dismounted their horses and lit torches. Sehun stepped down from his own horse and led his men through the sacred tree tunnel. He was met on the other end by four men dressed in dark green trousers and brown leather vests armed with bows. They immediately recognized Sehun and escorted them all to Jongdae’s home with the utmost pride.

 

“It has been a long time, Sehun.” Earl Jongdae welcomed Sehun and his 24 warriors with open arms quite literally.

“It has.” Sehun hugged him. His father and Earl Jongdae’s father had been close before he died. Often times Jongdae and his older brother, Minho would visit Geirland in the summers. Both thick muscled and olive skinned like most southerners, they were wild like boars, always looking to roughhouse with the Wu boys. They kept each other company while their father’s attacked neighboring lands to keep Lysa under the Wu’s iron fist. In return the Kim’s would remain in control of the forest of their ancestors.

“I am sorry I could not join you in the last raid,” Jongdae said. “Please, come inside.”

Earl Jongdae’s home mirrored the woods in which he lived. Plants hung from the thin wooden rafters and the candles lit throughout gave the house a warm orange glow. Dividers separated the rooms in such a way that the house resembled a maze. There were many trinkets hanging about the walls and a large fire pit in the center of the main room.

Sehun ducked inside followed closely by Jongin and a few other men that chose not to visit the mead hall. “It is no fault of yours. You have a duty to look after your people.”

“Yes, I do.” Jongdae sat down on a thick cushion and invited Sehun to do the same. “So, to what do I owe this visit?”

“Just passing through.”

Jongdae looked at him questioningly. “Are you going into Norðsvell?”

“We are,” Sehun said taking off his fur and weapons. Tao, another berserker friend Sehun had collected did the same. Jongin eyed them both with a wrinkled nose and held his knife close.

“What business do you have in the North?”

“Business of my own,” Sehun said flatly with a look that dared Jongdae to question him further.

“I see.” Jongdae nodded. “Well, I wish you well travels. You and your men are welcome to as much replenishment as you need. It is a long journey over the mountains.”

“Thank you, Earl Jongdae. I only have one favor to ask, that we can leave our horses here until we return. They surely won’t make it over the mountains.”

“Of course.” Jongdae ordered his servants to bring his guests food and water and ale. “Irene.” He called out to his wife, beckoning the woman from the shadows. She slinked out of the darkness, in a sheer white gown. Her hair falling down her back in never-ending black ringlets. Her long face was elegant and almost too stunning for someone plain like Jongdae, despite his title and riches. One could only wonder the parentage of such a beauty. Her name was definitely foreign.

Jongdae stood up and held one hand out to her and the other toward Sehun. “I want you to meet the Prince, Sehun. A childhood friend of mine.” With a small smirk on her lips she greeted the men, unnatural blue eyes lingering on Sehun.

The prince smiled at her and slightly bowed his head. Irene’s smile grew wider. He stood as well, took her soft hand and brought it to his lips. “Pleasure to meet you.”

“Pleasure’s all mine, my lord.”

Earl Jongdae clenched his jaw, the vein in his forehead was slowly becoming visible. Sehun did not have to guess that he struggled not to fix his mouth to accuse him of looking back at her for too long.

They ate and drank and told stories of Jongdae The Fearless which was going quite well until Tao drunkenly asked, “How did such a small man become an Earl? Can’t possibly be that bullshit about you defeating a dragon. Who would believe that?”

Truth be told, Sehun did not know why Jongdae was Earl of Mork. His brother Minho was older, taller, and just as tough albeit a bit more gentle-natured. Sehun had always taken his demeanor as level-headedness opposed to Jongdae’s fiery spirit. Perhaps their father figured Jongdae was the better candidate. Or maybe Minho did not want the title at all, as he was hardly heard from anymore.

Jongdae lowered his goblet along with his eyebrows to sneer over at Tao. “Have you ever been to the north, boy?”

Tao looked back at him with the same disgust. “No.”

“The Northmen are good warriors. Cold men.”

Tao laughed. “How tough does a man have to be to let another man shove his cock up his ass?” The others laughed along.

“That’s enough for tonight,” Sehun said and rubbed his eye with his fist. Jongin was laid out beside him, a mug the size of his head resting on his chest as his eyes slowly fluttered closed. It was very late and he could sense the tension rise in the Earl, just the same as anyone else. He knew better than them that it did not take much to stir Jongdae into a fit of rage therefore, he bid the man goodnight and strongly suggested his men to do the same.

 

Sehun had never been to Mjör, but it was exactly as his father described it. A large town nestled between mountains. Everything was made of stone and covered in snow, with torches spread about, glowing like fireflies. The night sky was almost teal and the moonlight gave the town a soft glow. Looking down at the ancient city from the mountain side after hours of seeing nothing but trees and wildlife was refreshing. Sehun took in a breath of the cold mountain air and said to his men, “Set up camp for the night. We will meet King Luhan in the morning.”

“This is stupid,” Minseok said moving to stand beside his nephew. “You come to take over a whole country with only a handful of men.”

“You said yourself it would be easy to crush the North. Have you changed your mind, uncle?”

“The throne is one thing, the people are another. They will fight back.”

“Then I assign you to be the first to send for reinforcement should we need it-”

“Look you little cunt,” Minseok took Sehun by the collar. Thier noses were touching and while Minseok’s teeth were bared Sehun’s expression was hard and unchanging. “I am your elder and I will not have you disrespect me. It was only yesterday you were pissing your bed, but look at you now all high and mighty.” He shook Sehun once. “Arrogant that’s what you are.”

Sehun took him by the wrists and squeezed until Minseok’s fingers loosened. “You are a jealous man, uncle,” he whispered and pushed the man away before heading to his own tent.

Jongin was nailing a post into the ground and Sehun bent down to help him. “Why don’t you just put an axe in his head and be done with it?”

Sehun shook his head. “He is my father’s brother.”

Jongin shrugged continuing to drive the wooden spike into the earth. Chuckling a bit he said, “You’re growing up to be a good man, Hun.”

Sehun snorted. “Compared to who?”

 

Morning had come too cold and too soon. Sehun was not used to the frost that stuck to the ground as it never snowed in Geirland. Not even during the cold months. Before anyone else had risen, Sehun took some time to himself on the mountainside. Above all else he should be smart. His father did not care if the outcome was a bloody massacre, but he did. While King Yifan felt there was power in ownership. Sehun felt there was power in numbers. Numbers that contributed to the raids. He wanted to venture out into more lands and wanted as many men on his side possible. It was true what his uncle had said. Killing this young king with no other male family members, and no war experience would be easy. But from what he knows, the Northman are secluded and prideful. They would not take too kindly to a Southerner ruling over them.

When Sehun returned to the camp everyone was packed up and ready to go. Sure enough Jongin stood at the head of the group grinning.

Sehun smiled back. “Let us go and meet the King.” Jongin clapped his shoulder and they descended the mountain together.

They knew good and well that King Luhan would be alerted of their presence before they even reached the foothills, so they took their time.

Sehun and his party were met with many tall, stocky men in thick white furs. They were armed with axes and not pleased to see them. Without many words exchanged they were accompanied the rest of the way to meet the King.

 

The Thingstead in Mjör was much different than the ones back home. It had a high ceiling and was supported by iron beams instead of wood. It was dug at least a foot into the ground and hosted many benches and wolfskin rugs. It was filled by many men and silence. The all stood aside as Sehun strolled inside much like he owned the place, his men behind him.

However he stopped short upon approaching the royal party.

King Luhan sat upon his throne with a mighty rage that could be felt the moment Sehun stepped into his line of sight. His hands clutched the arms of his throne that bore many intricate Norse designs. His golden arm ring shone brightly against his skin almost the same shade as his hair. While his body appeared to be hard and lean beneath his beige tunic, his face looked like it was molded delicately from the softest of snow. But his eyes. His angry brown eyes held such deep beauty that they demanded absolute attention.

Sehun swallowed thickly and took in his surroundings. Luhan was flanked by a very tall man, with long brown hair and a shorter man. The shorter was very fair-skinned, even for Northmen and dressed in very fine clothing.

“I am Sehun Spearhead,” he announced when the room began to fill with soft murmurs. “Son of Yifan, Prince of -”

“I know who you are, ” Luhan said. “What I want to know is what business you have here in the North. So far from home.”

Sehun took in a breath and a stepped forward. Luhan’s voice stopped him. “Never mind the niceties and fancy speech. Tell me straight.”

“Alright,” Sehun said slightly taken aback. Luhan’s face certainly did not match his demeanor. He did look young, maybe even Sehun’s age. But he was not the baby he had heard about. “I will say it plainly. It is my Father’s humble wish to unite both our kingdoms as one. With your agreement of course. Both our countries could benefit.”

Luhan laughed. At first a short dry sound that turned into a chuckle as others joined in. He bent forward and spoke so that only Sehun could hear him. “You mean to say, you’re father sent you to kill me.” Lifting an eyebrow he awaited Sehun’s delayed response. “I am not stupid. If King Yifan wanted to talk tactfully he would have come himself. Of course, I understand he is not very skilled with sensitive matters.”

“We have lived side by side in peace for hundreds of years,” Sehun spoke aloud. “A unification will make us stronger.”

“We have lived above you in peace, young prince.” Luhan smiled tightly. “In any case it is obvious that your father’s proposition is anything but peaceful. Over 20 warriors come over the mountains in the night for a simple suggestion? Such morals could only be expected from a Gierlander. Still, we ought to welcome our guests. Kyungsoo.” Luhan raised a hand to signal the slave to present food and drink to the southerners.

If it weren’t for his genetically inherited hardened face, it would appear as if Sehun was standing there like a fool. Luhan had dismissed him before he could even get a good word in. However as his men made themselves comfortable, he carried out his determination to get a chance to ask Luhan if they could speak again in private. Luhan nodded and dismissed him, taking it upon himself to keep an eye on the prince.

 

Sehun did not fill himself with ale like his brethren. He watched conspicuously as they danced and drank, feeling up the North women. He could not blame them, it had been a long trip over the mountains. Already he had shared too many glances with Luhan and each time he distracted himself with the horn full of brown liquid in his hands.

“He’s bluffing,” Minseok took a seat beside Sehun and whispered. Light music and the giggles of women filled the hall along with deep voices telling drunken stories. Sehun’s eyes found Luhan again. He was being consulted by the man with fine clothing. Sehun did not know what to make of the King yet, but he did know there was something intriguing about him.

“He’s afraid of us,” Minseok said. “Look at him, allowing another man to whisper in his ear all night. Disgusting. We will kill him. Tonight.”

The music changed, taking on a lighter tone. Flutes blew faster and louder than before slightly drowning out the boisterous laughter. The floor shook from the heavy boots of dancing men. “Not tonight, uncle,” Sehun said, finally taking a sip of ale and throwing one leg over the bench. “Tonight we rest.”

“Rest?” Minseok frowned.

“We’ve had a long journey. Even a viking needs rest.”

Minseok shook his head. “You are not my brother’s son.”

“Yet your brother has chosen me to lead the overthrow of the North.” Sehun took another drink from his horn. Finishing it’s contents, he rested it on the table and stood up. “Goodnight, uncle.”

 

The tension in Sehun’s stomach had become unbearable as his urge to urinate worsened. He eagerly found a spot out behind the hall to relieve himself. Sighing and closing his eyes, he emptied his bladder, quickly opening them again upon hearing footsteps.

“I want your men gone by the morning,” Luhan said walking closer. Sehun began to tuck himself away feeling Luhan at his back. He turned to face the King who was but a few inches shorter. The moonlight caught only half of his face which seemingly was not enough for Sehun. “But you may stay as long as you’d like, young Prince.” A small smile came and went so quickly that Sehun was not sure if he had even seen it at all before Luhan continued. “That is, if your intentions are indeed peaceful.”

“No harm will come to you or your people.” Sehun said. “As we are one people.”

Luhan snorted. “I want to believe you.”

“I Promise,” the prince said looking him in the eye. Not even sure why he would make such a statement.

“Good,” Luhan said lightly, yet his posture was still rigid. “May the gods protect you during your stay, Sehun Spearhead.” Luhan turned and took a few steps before looking back, “And always.”


End file.
